


patch your broken wings

by inimitabler



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Non-Chronological, Non-Linear Narrative, One Shot, Some Fluff, except no one cheats i promise, fabetty if you will, i finally finished the betty fic, just inspired by the plot of the song, not a songfic, side mercedes and santana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inimitabler/pseuds/inimitabler
Summary: "The wheels of the skateboard grind against the pavement as Quinn’s legs carry her away, far away from that house as she tries to erase the memory of Rachel standing on that porch, the same place where she used to wave goodbye and blow kisses to Quinn as she drove away, the same place where she stood just two months ago, crying as she said those final words that broke both of their hearts."AKA the betty fic, inspired by the song Betty by Taylor Swift
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	patch your broken wings

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! I've been teasing this fic on my twitter for months now, but I finally got around to finishing it, and here it is, my take on a Betty-inspired faberry story. The story jumps back and forth between two timelines, but it should be fairly easy to follow—the past is in italics and the present is in regular font. 
> 
> As a disclaimer, I do not own this song, nor any of the others referenced in this story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Quinn has never dreaded a first day of school more. Even when she was five, on her first day of kindergarten, shy and desperately clinging to her mom before she left her, she wasn’t this dreadful. Back then, Lucy knew that she would get to read books that day, which was all she needed. But Quinn, in her senior year of high school, has practically nothing to look forward to.

Her hair is newly pink, her wardrobe is newly dark, and her back is newly tattooed with an image that, though she won’t admit it to anyone, she already regrets. As she walks down the hall, she can feel all eyes on her, but it’s not the way they all used to look at her. Their stares used to make her feel strong, powerful, as if she was standing atop the social pyramid as well as the literal one. But now? Now, their stares make her feel weak, vulnerable, as if they can see into her soul, see her attempts at masking her regrets with hair dye and some new clothes.

Their eyes burn holes into her as she walks to her locker. She’s quick, putting her bag inside and taking out her binder for her first class, before she slams the door shut. If she took even a second longer, she would end up averting her gaze to the interior walls, plastered with handwritten notes and drawings and photographs she can’t bring herself to look at. Not yet, at least. 

The ache in her heart is something that she’s grown accustomed to, and looking at those relics from just a few, short months ago will only exacerbate the pain that lives within her.

Quinn keeps her eyes down as she makes her way to her homeroom, still feeling hundreds of eyeballs searing into her. She’s glad to have English first; at least there’s one good thing about the new school year. Walking into the room, she’s tempted to sit in the back corner, away from the peering eyes of her classmates. But it’s English, her favorite subject, with her favorite teacher in this godforsaken school, so instead Quinn takes a seat in the front row, the closest desk to the door, so she can be the first one out of the room if need be.

The teacher isn’t there yet, and Quinn realizes she’s alone in the classroom. The silence is nice, comforting even, the muffled conversations from the hallway fading into the background. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and whispers to herself.

“This will be a good year,” Quinn murmurs softly, “It’s gonna be okay.”

When she opens her eyes, it’s just in time to see the door open. She’s tempted to divert her gaze, not needing to see yet another one of her peers’ judgmental looks, but the sight of a short, plaid skirt instantly catches her attention. Slowly, she drags her gaze up the girl’s body, finally meeting familiar brown eyes that she knows all too well. Well, _knew_ all too well.

It’s been almost two months since she’s seen those eyes, and Quinn sees her own pain reflected in them.

Rachel pauses for a brief moment, hesitating, and Quinn wants desperately to reach out, to say something, _anything_ , but her tongue is dry, and her arms are heavy, and everything in her is screaming otherwise. Instead, she watches Rachel’s eyes harden, any semblance of warmth slipping away from those brown irises, as she deliberately walks past Quinn, past the front row of desks, and sits in the very back corner. The seat Quinn had previously been eyeing, the furthest seat away from her as possible. 

The ache in her heart grows ten times stronger. Quinn watches her for a moment as she crosses one leg over the other and starts pulling out her materials. Then, the warning bell rings, students begin piling into the classroom, and Quinn turns away, her gaze returning to the whiteboard in front of her.

For forty-three minutes, Quinn forces herself to keep her head forward, to resist the urge to turn around and meet her eyes, despite her desperate desire to know what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking. When the class is over, Rachel is the first one out the door, practically bolting up from her seat and rushing past their classmates, past Quinn, as she briskly makes her exit. 

_So much for me being the first one out of the room_ , Quinn thinks to herself.

The next day, Quinn is there first, again, and she opts to swap seats with Rachel this time, sitting in the back corner, leaving the desk closest to the door for her. She eagerly waits to see the expression on Rachel’s face when she realizes what Quinn has done for her, what she’s always done and will always do for her, but Rachel never even shows up.

Later in the day, Mercedes informs her that Rachel is in her homeroom now because of a last minute schedule change, and Quinn just laughs; she didn’t expect anything less.

* * *

_From the first time her lips touched Rachel’s, Quinn knew she was a goner._

_It was after Sam had just broken up with her after finding out she was cheating on him with Finn. Finn was sick with mono and mad at Quinn for whatever reason, and Quinn had just recovered from her bout of mono when Rachel approached her in the bathroom her first day back at school. They were alone, which wasn’t unusual when it came to their (frequent) bathroom encounters, and, though she didn’t know it at the time, Quinn would be so glad for this later._

_First, Rachel asked how she was feeling. She said that she was glad that she was doing well and to see her back at school. Then, Rachel told her that she had asked Finn what it felt like to kiss her. (Apparently, he’d said it felt like fireworks, but all Quinn had felt was shame.) She was shocked to hear that Rachel had asked him that, but then Rachel started going on about how she knew Quinn had just broken up with Sam and was maybe together with Finn and they’d never talked about this and she had no idea if Quinn would feel the same, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Before Quinn knew it, Rachel’s lips were on hers, pressing, caressing, begging her to respond._

_Eyes fluttering shut, chest heavy, Quinn tilted her head, opened her mouth, and kissed her back. From that moment on, everything was different._

_She stopped her thing with Finn, much to his shock and dismay, but Quinn didn’t find herself caring one bit. She apologized to Sam for what had happened, letting him know she wasn’t going to be with Finn and hoping they could remain friendly. She stayed off the Cheerios, she focused on her schoolwork, and she dedicated more of her time to Glee. But, most importantly, she began seeing Rachel._

_In the bathrooms, janitor’s closets, empty classrooms, the auditorium, the choir room before school and after school once everyone had left, Quinn was seeing Rachel and kissing Rachel and being with Rachel in ways she never knew she wanted but were everything that she needed. Outside of school, they found solitude more often than not in the comfort and privacy of Quinn’s car, in empty parking lots on the outskirts of Lima’s city limits, as well as in Rachel’s bedroom, often without the knowledge of her dads. (What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.)_

_Kissing Rachel was unlike anything else. It was like Quinn finally realized why people made such a big deal of a first kiss. She’d kissed boys plenty, and it was nice, but kissing Rachel? Everything clicked into place. All of the stories about first kisses and butterflies in your stomach and seeing fireworks finally made sense. She understood. When Rachel kissed her, she felt everything. Everything she thought she’d never feel, everything she’d spent so long searching for in boys, she found in Rachel._

_It was, by far, the best relationship Quinn had been in. At times, it felt almost too good to be true. Unfortunately, this sentiment reared its head too often, for a large part of why their relationship worked was that it was in secret._

_They kissed in cars not because it was fun but because it was all they had._

_Quinn couldn’t risk news of their relationship going public, not because she was ashamed, but because of what could happen. She had just repaired her relationship with her mom, and she was in no position to get kicked out for the second time. Rachel, on the other hand, had less to lose, but they both stood to fear the potential negative reactions from their peers. They had just watched Kurt get bullied out of McKinley and transfer to Dalton, and they did not want to put themselves through that kind of treatment if they could avoid it._

_And it was enough for them. They had their stolen moments, stolen kisses, stolen glances. They had their safe spaces, their locked doors and dark nights. They had a lot of things, but, most importantly, they had each other, and that was all they needed._

_At least, at the beginning._

* * *

She didn’t intend to come here. Really, she didn’t, but Quinn often lets her legs take her wherever they want to go, and, apparently, today they want to relive the past. She doesn’t even realize where she’s heading until she rounds a corner, the wheels of her skateboard gliding against the concrete, and she sees Rachel’s house down the street.

Stopping for a moment, Quinn considers turning around. She could easily go back home and continue ignoring the problem, ignoring the pain associated with the past and this street and this house. However, she’s been playing this avoidance game for weeks, and, frankly, it hasn’t done much for her. 

Sucking in a deep breath, she continues down the street. Quinn comes to a slow stop in front of her destination, the bright blue house facing her almost mockingly. 

_Look_ , it seems to scream, _Look at what you’re missing!_

Rachel’s house was their sanctuary for those months, the one place they could be together. At first, it was in secret; Quinn would come over under the guise of working on Glee assignments, so Rachel’s dads thought nothing of it. They carried on this charade for weeks until one day when her dad, Hiram (as he always corrected Quinn when she would call him Mr. Berry), caught them in a rather compromising position. After the initial shock at seeing them together, he simply nodded, pushed the door completely open, and told them dinner would be ready in five minutes. From that point on, they were able to be together in every conceivable way within the confines of the Berry household. It was freeing, to say the least, and Quinn can’t deny the ache in her chest at the memories.

She sees that front porch, looking colder than it used to, the bench in the corner with the same yellow cushions as before. Quinn can practically see her imprint in them, hers and Rachel’s, from all of the hours they spent there together.

On nights when the Berry men were tired of their—rather obnoxious—flirting, they would come sit out here on the porch, free to flirt and talk and kiss to their hearts’ desire. (Unless the door was left open, Rachel’s bedroom was not an option.) They would sit out here for hours, no matter the weather, just spending time together. Quinn would sit with her arm around her girlfriend, Rachel’s head resting on her shoulder, her legs tucked underneath her. 

Sometimes they would play little games: Never Have I Ever, Truth or Dare, Would You Rather. They would dare each other to go run in the pouring rain, share secrets that they’d never told anyone else, bicker over whether they would rather be able to talk to animals or speak every language on the planet. Rachel would tease Quinn as she walked back onto the porch, covered in snow after being dared to make a snow angel. Quinn would grin coyly before she lifted Rachel up in a hug, spinning her around and delighting in the sound of her boisterous laughter.

Quinn can still hear it if she tries hard enough.

She wonders what Rachel would think now if she saw Quinn standing here, with her pink hair, her dark clothing, her skateboard, nothing like the Quinn she once knew. Quinn might tell her about her summer, the part after they fell apart. How she befriended the Skanks because they were the only people she could find who didn’t care why she was so sad all of the time. How they convinced her to dye her hair pink, and Quinn didn’t have it in her to object. How Mack taught her to skateboard, how she introduced her to her friends at the skatepark. How she had a brief fling with a forty-year-old skateboarder, a woman named Joanna, because Quinn was lonely and needed to _feel_ something.

Maybe she’d skip that last part.

Just then, her thoughts become reality when Quinn watches the front door open and out steps none other than Rachel Berry in all her glory. She freezes when she sees Quinn, stops right on her front porch and stares at her. Quinn stares back, almost daring Rachel to do something, but the sight is just too painful, and, before she even realizes it, she is taking off.

The wheels of the skateboard grind against the pavement as Quinn’s legs carry her away, far away from that house as she tries to erase the memory of Rachel standing on that porch, the same place where she used to wave goodbye and blow kisses to Quinn as she drove away, the same place where she stood just two months ago, crying as she said those final words that broke both of their hearts.

* * *

_“Truth or dare?”_

_Quinn hummed, considering her options. “Truth.”_

_“Who was your first kiss?” Rachel asked, playing with Quinn’s hands gently._

_“Really? That’s your question?” Quinn said incredulously, shifting on the bench below her to look at Rachel._

_The sun was setting on them, and the weather was rather warm for a random Friday in April. Sitting on the front porch at Rachel’s house, Quinn felt content. Her girlfriend was sitting next to her, and it was the weekend, which meant she had the upcoming forty-eight hours to spend with her._

_“Yeah, it is,” Rachel insisted, “So, who was it?”_

_Quinn cleared her throat before she admitted, “Finn.”_

_Rachel laughed, and Quinn immediately blushed with embarrassment. “Finn?” Rachel asked, “As in, Finn Hudson?”_

_Quinn nodded, making Rachel laugh even more, and she frowned. “What? You know my parents. I wasn’t even allowed to date until high school.”_

_“No, it’s not that,” Rachel promised as she caught her breath, “It’s just the fact that both of our first kisses were with him, and we spent so long fighting each other over him, and now look at us.”_

_“He was your first, too?” Quinn asked, genuinely surprised._

_Rachel nodded solemnly. “Yeah, he was. I’m sorry about that, for what it’s worth,” She apologized._

_“Don’t even worry about it,” Quinn said, shaking her head, “We both know I wasn’t really into him anyway. I was much more focused on, well, you.”_

_Now it was Rachel’s turn to blush, and Quinn delighted in the pink tint that arose in her cheeks. Leaning forward, Quinn pressed a kiss to her cheek, lighting up at the smile on her girlfriend’s face. She would do anything to make Rachel smile like this for the rest of her life._

_“Okay, your turn,” Quinn announced, squeezing her hands. “Truth or dare?”_

_“Dare.”_

_Quinn smirked. “I dare you to go tell your dads about what we did last night.”_

_“Quinn!” Rachel exclaimed, “Absolutely not!”_

_“You have to, Rach. Those are the rules,” Quinn said, laughing to herself._

_Rolling her eyes, Rachel stood up and said, “Fine,” before she disappeared into the house, leaving Quinn alone on the porch. She took in a deep breath, shutting her eyes for a few moments and enjoying the peace and quiet, the feeling of the warm air against her skin. It was only a minute before Rachel returned, a satisfied grin on her face._

_“You do it?” Quinn asked._

_“Yes, I told them all about the wonderful phone date we had last night and how we watched that movie together,” Rachel said, “Leaving out any explicit details, of course, but I did what you asked. Now, truth or dare?”_

_Quinn groaned, “I guess it’s better that you left out the details. We have enough restrictions on us as it is. And, um, dare.”_

_“I dare you to go to prom with me.”_

_“What?”_

_Rachel dropped her gaze as she repeated, “I dare you… to go to prom with me. Or, we don’t even have to necessarily go together, but I really want to just be with you and dance with you.”_

_Quinn considered the request, sighing as she said, “Rachel, I—”_

_“I know your mom could find out,” Rachel interrupted, meeting Quinn’s eyes, “And I know you hate big crowds, and you’ll probably be up for prom queen, so I know people will definitely see us and talk, and I know it’s scary. I know. I’m just, I’m asking if you’ll maybe consider it.”_

_“Rach,” Quinn began, her eyes falling to her lap, “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I want nothing more than to be able to hug you and… and kiss you in front of all of our stupid friends, and I know these past couple of months have been hard, keeping us a secret, but I just—I’m scared, Rachel. I’m so scared.”_

_“I know, baby,” Rachel replied, leaning forward to wrap her arms around Quinn. Quinn melted into the embrace, letting her arms fall around Rachel’s back, and Rachel continued, “I know what you’ve been through, and I know what could happen, so I’m not trying to force you into anything, please know that. I just want to have the best night, and I know it will suck to be apart from you. I’m just hoping you’ll consider it.”_

_Quinn weighed her options in her head. Rachel was right: the night would absolutely suck if she had to spend it away from her girlfriend and watch her dance and laugh with everyone but her. On the other hand, she would risk outing herself, outing them, and possibly being disowned, yet again. She had no idea how Judy would react to her sexuality or their relationship, and it terrified her. She couldn’t risk losing her mom, again._

_But, “One dance?” Quinn asked, tilting her head back to meet Rachel’s eyes._

_Rachel nodded. “One dance. We can go with a group of friends.”_

_Quinn saw the hope in her gaze, and she promised, “Okay, I can do one dance.”_

_Rachel squealed, smiling brightly and kissing her. Quinn’s eyes fluttered shut, and she kissed her back, ignoring the sudden, nervous pulsing of her heart and the instant doubts running through her head._

* * *

The following day at school, Quinn is standing at her locker when Mercedes approaches her, an inquisitive look on her face. In all honesty, Quinn hasn’t been the greatest friend to her, or to Santana, or any of her other friends lately. It has been hard keeping what really went down between her and Rachel a secret, for the fear of outing either of them, so Quinn has chosen to rather keep her distance than spew lies to her friends.

Unfortunately, avoidance continues not to solve her problems.

“Quinn?” Mercedes asks.

“Hey, Mercedes,” She says softly, shutting her locker. “What’s up?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to figure out what the hell is going on with you,” Mercedes says briskly.

Quinn scoffs, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Quinn. You went completely M.I.A. this summer, and then you show up back in school with pink hair, don’t talk to anyone, and expect me to think you’re okay?” She asks. “We’re friends, Quinn, and I’m worried about you. Not to mention all of the rumors flying around.”

At this, Quinn panics, her heart racing as she says, “Rumors? What rumors?”

“I don’t know, Kurt’s been telling me a lot of stuff he’s heard about you, your trip with Santana and Brittany, you and the Skanks, you and Finn, even you and Rachel,” Mercedes explains, and Quinn feels her face grow pale. 

“What kind of stuff?”

“All sorts of things,” Mercedes says, “But that’s not the point here. The point is that we’re friends, or at least I thought we were, and I haven’t heard from you in almost three months.”

“I’m sorry, Mercedes, I really am,” Quinn sighs, “I’ve just been dealing with some stuff, and—”

“Look, you don’t need to spill all of your secrets to me. I just want you to know that I’m here, okay? And I want to know that you’re there for me, ’cause I have stuff I wanna tell you, too,” Mercedes says.

Quinn drops her head and frowns. “Like what?”

“Stuff that friends tell each other. About friendships, _relationships_ ,” She says, emphasizing the latter. “I’ll tell you in Glee later today.”

“Mercedes…” Quinn mumbles, folding her arms across her chest, “I don’t think I’m coming back to Glee.”

“Yes, you are,” Mercedes insists, “Because, no matter whatever went down between you and whoever, we are your best friends. You know damn well those Skanks don’t care about you the way that we do. Plus, if you don’t, you’ll never get to hear about what Sam and I got up to this summer.”

Mercedes shrugs, turns around, and walks away as Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up. She didn’t even know that Mercedes and Sam were together. How could she have missed that? Is she that detached from her friends’ lives?

The thought weighs on Quinn’s mind for the rest of the day which is what leads her to the choir room after school, despite everything in her telling her that this was a bad idea. Rachel will be there, without a doubt, and there’s no telling how she might react to seeing her there.

As she walks into the choir room, Quinn is spared a confrontation of any sort when she strolls right past Rachel, who is having a conversation with Brad at the piano. Rachel doesn’t seem to notice her entrance, and Quinn is grateful for it as she takes a seat in the back corner of the room. Mr. Schue starts talking, welcoming them to the new school year, and quickly gives the floor to Rachel who (unsurprisingly) already has a performance prepared to kick things off.

Quinn watches Rachel turn around to address everyone, and she can see the moment her eyes fall onto Quinn, her gaze hardening instantly. Quickly, Rachel averts her gaze, eyes centered on the middle of the room as she says, “In lieu of an introduction, I’ll just say that I’ve been listening to a lot of Christina Perri lately, and this song has been resonating a lot with me.”

She nods to Brad, and he begins to play the piano intro; Quinn recognizes the song before Rachel can even start to sing, and she spends the entirety of the performance avoiding looking at Rachel as she sings _Jar of Hearts_ , singing about broken promises and love falling apart. Quinn can’t stand to look at her, knowing she is singing about her, about _them_ , and the feeling is almost unbearable. By the time the song ends, Rachel is in tears, and she excuses herself to the bathroom soon after the final note fades out. 

“What the hell was that?” Santana asks loudly, breaking the tension in the room, and hushed voices begin to fill the room as everyone theorizes over what has Rachel so distraught.

Quinn ducks her head, trying to fight the tears that have been steadily forming in her eyes for the past three minutes, and she sees Mercedes walk over to her. She looks up, seeing Mercedes nod to herself and raise an eyebrow.

“Does what just happened have anything to do with why you weren’t gonna come back to Glee?” She asks.

Quinn is silent, not knowing what to say, and Mercedes continues, “And does it maybe have something to do with why Rachel didn’t invite you to her back to school party?”

Quinn lifts her head in shock. “Her what?”

“She sent out a group text a couple days ago to everyone in Glee, inviting us to a small party at her house this Friday,” Mercedes explains, “And no one said anything, but we all noticed that you weren’t invited.”

“I…” Quinn trails off. She sees the genuine concern in Mercedes’ gaze, and it prompts her to say, “It might… have something to do with that, yeah.”

Mercedes nods. “I figured it did.”

Quinn runs a hand through her hair, releasing a deep breath before she says, “I have some things I want to tell you. Are you busy after Glee today?”

Smiling, Mercedes says, “No, I’m not.” 

“Okay, cool,” Quinn says, “I promise I’ll explain everything. And, um, thank you. You know, for being here for me.”

Mercedes just nods and walks away, and Quinn bites her lip, a plan already forming in her head.

* * *

_To say Quinn was nervous would have been an understatement._

_She had been at the dance for almost an hour already and hadn’t danced with Rachel yet. They had come together, along with Mercedes, Santana, and Brittany, because it had been a great way for them to be able to be close to each other throughout the night._

_Quinn had been stunned when she had first seen Rachel, walking out of her house and into Santana’s car. She was a vision in her strapless pink dress, her hair curled and falling down her shoulders, a bright smile on her face as she had climbed into the car next to Quinn._

_“You’re stunning,” Quinn had whispered, delighting in the blush that arose in her girlfriend’s cheeks._

_“So are you,” Rachel had whispered back._

_Now, an hour later, Quinn still couldn’t take her eyes off of her, but it was accompanied by an ever-present sense of fear. All she wanted was to dance with Rachel, to make her happy, to keep her promise to her, but, as the night went on, Quinn wasn’t sure if she would be able to do so._

_They were taking a short break from dancing, sitting at a table together in the back of the room. Santana and Brittany had disappeared at this point, leaving just Quinn, Rachel, and Mercedes together. They watched all of the couples slow-dancing in the center of the room; Quinn smiled at the sight of Tina and Mike swaying together, and she was glad that at least some of her friends were enjoying their night to the fullest. Glancing over, she saw the longing looks on Rachel and Mercedes’ faces, and a wave of guilt crashed over her. Though she couldn’t do much for Mercedes, Quinn knew her girlfriend was waiting for her to lean over, grab her hand, and lead her onto the dance floor. And, as hard as she tried and as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t muster up the courage._

_Looking up, Quinn saw Sam Evans walk towards them, reach out a hand to Mercedes, and ask her to dance. Mercedes glanced at them, and Rachel smiled, playfully shooing her off to go dance. Quinn gave her an encouraging grin, and Mercedes nodded and took Sam’s hand, letting him lead her onto the dance floor. She watched them fondly for a few moments before she looked over at Rachel, seeing that same longing expression on her face._

_“Rachel, I—” Quinn began, stopping herself when a new song started to play over the speakers._

_She watched Rachel’s face light up at the opening chords of the song, A Thousand Years. Quinn knew it was one of her favorite love songs, and Rachel’s eyes were pleading with her to get up and dance. And she tried, she really did, but the racing of her heart, and the clamminess of her hands, and the hundreds of people surrounding them were too much for her._

_“I—I’m sorry,” Quinn choked out before she stood up and fled, her legs carrying her out of the gymnasium, down the hallway, and into the bathroom._

_She hadn’t even looked back to see Rachel’s face, knowing she would be met with nothing but disappointment. Quinn couldn’t stand to see such sadness on her face, not when she was on the verge of breaking down in front of everyone out there._

_Standing in the bathroom, she tried her best to calm her breathing, taking in slow, deep breaths and exhaling gently. Quinn placed her hands on the sink countertop, the coldness of the porcelain a welcome relief from the growing moisture on her hands. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the tears in her eyes, watching as they fell from her eyes, down her cheeks, and into the sink below her. Seeing that her makeup was beginning to run, Quinn moved over to grab a paper towel, folded it up, and dabbed gently at her eyes in an attempt to save whatever was left of her mascara._

_Her breathing had returned to normal, and the panic she had felt was replaced with an overwhelming feeling of regret. She left Rachel sitting there by herself; she broke her promise. Quinn had promised to dance with her, at least once, but she had fled out of fear, during Rachel’s favorite song, no less. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what must have been running through Rachel’s head._

_But she still had time to make it right. Maybe Quinn could fix what she did. She could walk in there, grab Rachel’s hand, and ask her to dance. She could do that._

_Feeling her pulse speeding up, Quinn shut her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing once again. Just the mere thought of dancing with her girlfriend, in front of everyone, had her beginning to panic again. But she wanted to do this: she wanted to make things right. She didn’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that bailed out on her promises._

_Suddenly, Quinn came to the realization that she would rather lose her status and potentially her life stability rather than lose Rachel. Just the thought terrified her._

_She loved Rachel._

_She loved her, enough to get her ass back out there and dance with her, consequences be damned._

_It was what Rachel deserved, it was what Quinn deserved, and it was what they deserved._

_A determined look settled over her face, and she finished fixing her makeup before she sucked in a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom. She strutted down the long hallway, eyes locked onto the gym doors, focused on Rachel and Rachel only. She heard the music growing louder as she got closer. The song had changed, moved onto a new one, but Quinn didn’t care. It didn’t matter the song; she would dance with Rachel to a nursery rhyme if that was what it took._

_Turning the corner, she entered the gym, eyes immediately seeking out her girlfriend. Not seeing her at the table where she had left her, Quinn’s eyes darted around the room rapidly. Finally, she spotted Rachel in the midst of the dance floor, and Quinn smiled and began to walk towards her._

_Until she saw Finn, standing behind her girlfriend, his arms wrapped around her waist._

_They were swaying together. Rachel’s hands covered his, and her eyes were closed, a content look on her face. Then, the song faded into a more upbeat one, and she grinned, spinning around to face him as they began to dance together. Quinn heard Rachel’s laughter as Finn took her hand and spun her around, her dress twirling with her. She came to a stop, facing Quinn, and Quinn noticed the moment Rachel realized she was watching, her smile instantly vanishing._

_“Quinn,” Rachel said, leaving Finn behind and quickly walking towards her, “I—I can explain.”_

_Quinn took off, not bothering to hear whatever excuse Rachel may have had. This time, she grabbed her belongings and left the gym, went down the hall, and walked right out of the building. She came to a stop once she was finally outside, and, before she knew it, she was crying again, hard. Tears were streaming down her face, but the sight of a car pulling up in front of her had Quinn forcing herself to stop as she wiped the tears from her eyes, any hope of saving her makeup long gone._

_“Quinn? The hell?” She heard, walking closer to see Santana and Brittany in the car, concerned expressions on both of their faces._

_“What?” Quinn spat out._

_Shaking her head, Santana said, “Nothing. Come on, get in the car.”_

_Quinn hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at the school building. “Why?”_

_“So we can get out of here,” Santana explained, “School year’s over. Let’s get out of this place.”_

_“And go where?” Quinn asked nervously._

_“Anywhere.”_

_Everything in her wanted to leave, to get out of here, and here was Santana, offering her exactly that. Maybe she should have gone back inside and talked to Rachel. Maybe she should have heard her out, solved things with her, and danced like they had planned. Maybe then it would have been okay._

_But she didn’t. Quinn walked up to that car, climbed inside, and didn’t look back._

* * *

“Why exactly are we here?”

Quinn looks at Mercedes and Santana, standing in her living room, looking all sorts of confused. She gestures for them to sit down on the couch, and she makes sure they do before she leaves the room, grabbing her recent purchase from the kitchen, and returns. Quinn stands in front of them, holding the box behind her back when she says, “I have a plan.”

Santana and Mercedes exchange a look, one that only slightly concerns her, and Santana says, “Okay… What kind of plan?”

“A plan to fix things,” Quinn explains, “To fix things with Rachel.”

“She knows?” They both say at the same time, turning their heads to look at each other and then looking back at Quinn expectantly.

“Yes, you both know,” Quinn says, regarding them as she says, “I told Santana on our… trip over the summer, and I just told Mercedes a few days ago. Now I would _really_ appreciate both of your help here, mostly to keep me from psyching myself out of going through with this.”

“Of course,” Mercedes smiles kindly. She elbows Santana, forcing a half-assed nod out of her, and says, “What do you need from us?”

Quinn smiles, beyond grateful for their support. “Well, first, this,” She says as she tosses the box in her hands onto the couch between them. 

Santana picks the box up and laughs when she sees what it is. “Oh, thank god.”

A few minutes later, they are all piled into Quinn’s bathroom upstairs. Quinn is sitting in a chair, her head tilted back into the sink, as Santana dons the plastic gloves and Mercedes reads over the instructions on the box.

“Q, if I royally fuck up your hair, you can’t blame me,” Santana warns with a grin.

Quinn shoots straight up, glaring daggers into Santana as she says, “Santana, I swear to god—”

“Relax, Quinn,” Mercedes interrupts, “I won’t let her do anything stupid.”

“Maybe I should’ve had you do this instead,” She mutters.

Santana just laughs, “Not a chance, I called dibs.”

Three hours, several arguments, and one minor mishap (read: almost-terrible-accident) later, Quinn has freshly cut blonde hair. She sends her friends downstairs to wait for the thank-you pizza she has just ordered for the three of them as she cleans up the bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror, Quinn forces a smile onto her face. Her hair is just the beginning of a return to her former self, but it is also a reminder of the growth she has made. She wants Rachel to remember who she was, but she also wants her to know that she has grown and changed. A simple dying of her hair might not convey all of that, but, frankly, Quinn needs it to because she is all out of other options.

When she finishes cleaning, Quinn walks downstairs and sees her friends lounging in front of the TV and eating pizza, and she grabs a slice and sits in the armchair in the corner. She stays quiet for a bit after she decides to let Mercedes and Santana relax before she springs the rest of her plan on them, hoping they’ll convince her to go through with it. 

They are about twenty minutes into the movie that Mercedes has put on when Santana groans, catching Quinn’s attention, and says, “Damn, I just spoiled my appetite before the party at Berry’s…” She trails off, glancing over to Quinn to gauge her reaction.

“I already know about the party. Mercedes told me,” Quinn explains, “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“The party?” Mercedes asks.

Quinn nods as she says, “It’s tonight, right? That’s… that’s the final part of my plan.”

Mercedes looks dubious when she says, “Your plan is to crash Rachel’s party?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Quinn mumbles. She looks between them both, saying, “I’m gonna go and apologize. In front of everyone.”

It’s silent for a moment as they process what Quinn has just told them, and Quinn is about to continue when Santana blurts out, “Are you fucking nuts?”

Quinn goes pale. “Um, no?”

“Your plan is to show up to a party that you were _deliberately_ not invited to, stand on her doorstep, and, what, beg for her forgiveness? I mean, come on, are you serious?” Santana asks, gesturing around wildly. She looks over at Mercedes and continues, “Tell me this isn’t the worst possible idea she could have.”

Mercedes shrugs. “The notion is sweet, Quinn, but Santana’s right. Don’t you think this would better be done another time in private?”

“No,” Quinn insists. She can feel herself getting frustrated, and she forces herself to calm down, shaking her head gently, before she continues, “No, I need to do this in front of everyone. I need to show her that I’m serious about this. About us. And that I don’t want to hide anymore. That I’m ready for whatever might come our way.”

“Q, the girl is pissed at you. Has been for months. I really don’t think this is gonna go well,” Santana warns.

“Like you’re one to talk,” She retorts, “Brittany was pissed at you for the same shit that happened with me and Rachel.”

Santana scoffs. “Do not even try to compare us. I didn’t ditch my girlfriend at the fucking prom. And we’re out now, so it’s not the same thing at all.”

Quinn rolls her eyes, raising her voice as she says, “You’re only out because _I_ convinced you to come out after _you_ convinced me to ditch my girlfriend at the fucking prom.”

“I didn’t tell you to ghost her for an entire fucking month after that!” Santana shouts. “Jesus Christ, Quinn, this is why you’re not ready for this because you clearly still haven’t taken responsibility for what you did.”

Quinn falls silent. Dropping her head, she shuts her eyes tightly, trying to force away the tears that were working their way up. She’s proven unsuccessful when she starts to cry, her shoulders shaking gently, and she feels Mercedes’ arms fold around her in an embrace. Quinn hears Santana scoff at her, and she looks up to see her folding her arms across her chest, unbothered.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn whispers to her.

“Yeah, I’m not the one you should be saying that to,” Santana retorts.

Quinn just nods, continuing, “I know that. That’s why I need to do this. You’re right. I didn’t mean what I said. It was entirely my fault, not yours in the slightest, which is why I need to go make things right. Tonight.”

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” Mercedes asks gently, and Santana nods at the statement, looking to Quinn expectantly.

“Then I guess it’s over,” She shrugs dejectedly, “But I have to try. I just—I miss her so much. More than I can even put into words. I can’t go on like this any longer.”

Quinn glances up at Santana, desperately seeking her approval. They stare at each other for a few moments, Santana’s eyes burning lasers into hers, before she simply nods. Quinn instantly relaxes and stands up, walking over to Santana and hugging her. Mercedes hugs Quinn from behind, and she’s never felt more supported than this moment.

An hour passes, and Quinn finds herself standing somewhere she hasn’t been for two months. The wooden boards creak below her, the late summer air is warm against her skin, and Quinn stares at the familiar, white door in front of her. She lifts a hand to knock on the surface, but she hesitates.

It’s now or never.

* * *

_Returning to Lima felt both suffocating and freeing at the same time._

_When Quinn had gotten into Santana’s car and left the prom on a whim, she hadn’t expected it would be almost a full month before she would step foot in the town again. But here she was, walking into her home for the first time in the past four weeks._

_It was a Saturday afternoon, and she watched her mom come running down the stairs at the sound of the front door opening. Immediately, Judy hugged her, practically squeezing the life out of her, and Quinn hugged her back._

_(She couldn’t even remember the last time her mom had hugged her. It might have been after Beth was born. Maybe even longer before that.)_

_“Quinnie, your hair!” Her mom said in lieu of a greeting, “It’s so short!”_

_Quinn shrugged, running her fingers through her choppy hair. “Yeah, it is.”_

_Judy forced a smile onto her face and grabbed Quinn’s chin gently, saying, “Well, if you like it, I suppose that’s alright. Do you want something to eat? Dinner won’t be ready for a few hours.”_

_“That’s it? That’s all you have to say after I was gone for four weeks?” She asked. It wasn’t like she was surprised, but she certainly expected a bit more from their reunion than this. Quinn watched her mom open her mouth to say something, but she quickly shut it, seemingly at a loss for words, and Quinn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I’m going over to a friend’s house.”_

_“But you just got back,” Judy replied, and Quinn gave her a knowing look. “Oh, o-okay, well, be safe.”_

_“Always am, Mom,” Quinn said, grabbing her car keys from the bowl by the front door and walking right back out of the house._

_She hadn’t spoken to her mom in those four weeks besides a text Quinn had sent the night of prom, telling her that she was going out of town with Brittany and Santana and didn’t know when she’d be back. Judy had told her to be safe, and that was that._

_Truth be told, Quinn hadn’t spoken to pretty much anyone in those four weeks, save for Brittany and Santana. She’d needed an escape, a period of time out of Lima in which she could forget about all of her fears and regrets and problems and just exist. And she had done that, for four weeks. After making a quick pit stop at each of their houses for clothes and other essentials, the three of them had embarked on a roadtrip with no destination in mind. Sharing driving responsibility, they had left the confines of Lima and driven west, stopping at random sites along the way. They had slept in the car some nights, motels other nights. One night in Chicago, they had splurged on a hotel downtown, and Quinn had spent the evening sitting out on the balcony, staring at the bustling city below her, finding solace in the fact that she was miles from home. There, no one knew her name, and she could be whoever she wanted to be. It was freeing, to say the least._

_Quinn had intended to talk to Rachel at some point. She really had. She regretted leaving the dance, and she had every intention of talking to her when she got back to Lima. But their trip kept getting extended, and texting Rachel seemed like it would have done more harm than good, so she’d kept delaying it. One week had turned into two, then three, then four. Four weeks since she had seen or even spoken to her girlfriend, and it wasn’t like they’d had the greatest final moment together before her departure._

_It was all Quinn had thought about for those four weeks, how she’d left things at prom. She knew she fucked up when she left Rachel in the gym, and she knew she shouldn’t have left her there. But it wasn’t like you couldn’t blame her._

_Rachel had been dancing with Finn. The guy they had fought over, the guy Rachel had been genuinely interested in dating for the better part of a year. Quinn couldn’t help but feel replaced, along with her general insecurity that Rachel would get tired of hiding their relationship and want to be with someone who wasn’t afraid to hold her hand in the hallway._

_That night had royally sucked for them both, and Quinn intended to fix it._

_As she pulled into Rachel’s driveway, Quinn swallowed past the lump in her throat, got out of the car, and walked up the steps to Rachel’s door. She knocked gently and looked over to the bench in the corner, smiling at the fond memories that came to her mind. As she heard the door open, Quinn turned her attention forward and was met with Hiram Berry._

_“Hi, Mr. Berry,” She said, “Is Rachel home?”_

_Before he could answer, Quinn heard Rachel come walking down the stairs, asking, “Dad, who’s at the—Oh. Quinn.”_

_Quinn’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her girlfriend, but Rachel’s face remained expressionless. Rachel began to step outside, nodding to Hiram when he gave her a concerned look. He looked back to Quinn, his eyes hardening over, and Quinn felt the lump in her throat come right back. The door shut behind him, leaving her and Rachel standing alone on the porch._

_“Hey, Rach,” Quinn said softly, watching her carefully._

_Rachel stepped to the side, putting some distance between them as she said, “‘Hey, Rach?’ Really? You ghost me for four weeks, and you come back and say ‘Hey, Rach?’”_

_“No, I mean—”_

_“You mean what, Quinn?” Rachel interrupted, her voice raising in volume, “Where the hell have you been? And why haven’t you been answering my texts? Or my calls? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”_

_Quinn’s heart sunk into her chest at her words, the anger she could hear in her voice. “I’m sorry. I-I was on a road trip. With Santana and Brittany.”_

_“Yeah, I know,” She said with a bitter tone, “Not because of you, I might add, but because Santana told me a couple weeks ago after I went so crazy not knowing where you were that I called her and asked if she knew. Color me surprised when I found out that you were with her, and had been with her the whole time.”_

_“Rachel, it wasn’t like that, I promise,” Quinn insisted, “And you could’ve asked my mom, or—”_

_“Your mom?” Rachel interrupted again, “Who doesn’t know about our relationship? And what would I have said to her? ‘Hi, Judy, do you happen to know why I haven’t seen my girlfriend since she ditched me at the prom?’”_

_Quinn shut her mouth, her breathing growing heavy. This wasn’t at all what she was expecting. “I’m so sorry, Rachel. I wanted to text you, but I just… I wanted to see you in person. To apologize. But things just kept getting pushed back.”_

_Rachel scoffed. “That’s no excuse. You left me there, Quinn. You promised me you would dance with me, and then you left. And I had to make up an excuse for why you stormed out, and why I cared so much. And then I didn’t hear from you for weeks. Weeks!”_

_“Well, I’m sorry if I was caught up in the moment after I saw you literally dancing with your ex-boyfriend,” Quinn spat out, watching as Rachel’s eyebrows rose up, her eyes growing wide._

_“Really? So that makes it okay for you to go completely M.I.A. for a month? Because I shared one dance with a friend after you broke your promise to me?” Rachel nearly shouted. Her face was growing bright red, and her hands were curled into tight fists at her side._

_“He was never just a friend,” Quinn retorted. “Don’t minimize that.”_

_“Well, that’s all he was to me at the time. Because I had an amazing girlfriend who I lo—liked so much, who had promised she would dance with me, and then didn’t. So, yeah, I danced with a friend who was willing to dance with me after my own girlfriend wouldn’t,” Rachel explained angrily._

_“I wasn’t ready, Rachel, and I’m sorry.”_

_Rachel paused, regarding Quinn curiously, before she said, “It’s fine that you weren’t ready. But you could have told me that instead of running away and not talking to me for four weeks. Don’t you see, Quinn?” She paused again, her voice frail with oncoming tears. “I didn’t hear from you at all. Not a text, not a phone call, nothing. How am I supposed to think you care about me after this?”_

_Quinn exhaled sharply as her chest grew even heavier. “I do care about you, Rachel, so much. I lo—”_

_“No,” Rachel cut her off, “No, I-I can’t do this. You need to go.”_

_Quinn gasped as she began to cry. Rachel couldn’t be saying what she thought she was saying. “Rachel, please.”_

_Rachel moved back to the door, her eyes red and filled with tears. She regarded Quinn for a moment and said, “No, I’m sorry, but… I can’t do this anymore. We’re over.”_

_“Rachel,” Quinn pleaded, crying desperately, “Please, don’t do this.”_

_Shaking her head, Rachel looked at her one last time before she turned around and walked inside. Sobs began to wrack Quinn’s body as she stood on the porch, staring at that white door, her heart shattering into a million pieces._

* * *

The memory of that dreadful day is clear in Quinn’s mind as she stands on Rachel’s porch, yet again, and she can’t help but worry that it will end the same way it did all those months ago. She can still hear Rachel’s voice in her head, doubting her and their relationship. But Quinn is determined to fix things, to lay everything out on the line, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t.

Quinn knocks on the door, three swift taps, and looks over her shoulder to Mercedes and Santana, standing at the edge of the front lawn. Mercedes nods to her, Santana gives her a thumbs-up, and Quinn looks back just as the door swings open.

“Quinn,” Rachel breathes out when she sees her, and Quinn swallows nervously. Rachel stares at her, biting her lip briefly before she says, “What are you doing here?”

“I, um,” Quinn mumbles, her mind racing a thousand miles a minute. She shakes her head, clearing any doubts or worries away, returning her to focus to Rachel and Rachel only. “I need to say some things.”

Rachel shakes her head dismissively, gesturing behind her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. You should go home.”

“No,” She insists, her voice growing stronger. “No, I need to do this now.”

Rachel shakes her head again. She steps out onto the porch, the door staying wide open behind her, and Quinn can see their fellow Glee members walking around inside her house. “Quinn, I’m serious.”

Quinn takes a step back to give Rachel some space, despite her urge to be close to her. She’ll (hopefully) have time for that later. “And I’m serious, too. Rachel, please, just hear me out.”

Rachel regards her carefully, and Quinn watches as her body relaxes, her walls come down, and she says, “Fine. But quickly. I have company, and I do not intend to be a poor hostess.”

The comment makes Quinn smile. It’s such a Rachel thing to say, and she’s missed it. She’s missed her so much, which is why she begins with, “I miss you.”

Rachel is noticeably shocked, and Quinn takes advantage of it, quickly continuing to say, “I miss us. I miss being with you and spending time with you and, just, you. I miss _you_.

“I fucked up, Rachel. I really fucked up, and I am so, _so_ sorry. I can’t apologize enough,” Quinn says desperately, her eyes locked onto Rachel’s. “I should never have left you at that dance, and I definitely shouldn’t have ignored you for weeks after that. I should have told you I wasn’t ready to make that big of a statement instead of running out of the gym, but you should know that… that I came back in there to dance with you.”

At this, Rachel gasps as Quinn explains, “I was scared, but I just wanted to be with you. I realized you were more important to me than anything else, but, really, that scared me, too. And then I saw you with Finn, and I just freaked out and left. And, god, Rachel, I am so sorry.”

“You...” Rachel murmurs, “You were coming to dance?”

“I was,” Quinn nods in confirmation. “Though frankly, I am not sure how well that would have gone, and I probably would have freaked out after that too, but… I was. Because I realized something that night, something that I never got the chance to tell you.”

Rachel looks behind her into the house, and Quinn follows her gaze to see all of their friends hovering closely behind her, watching their conversation. “Quinn,” Rachel warns, “I really don’t think this is the best time.”

Quinn shakes her head. “That’s just the thing, Rach. I’m not afraid anymore.”

“You’re not?” Rachel's face lights up with awe.

“No, I’m not,” She replies, glancing at the group gathered behind Rachel before she says, “Are you?”

Thankfully, Rachel seems to understand what she’s getting at, and she whispers, “No, I’m not.”

Quinn nods, takes a deep breath, and says, “I love you, Rachel.” She hears gasps and hushed whispers from inside the house, and Quinn does her best to tune them out and focus on Rachel, who is staring at her with more warmth in her eyes than she has seen since that night at prom. “I have for months, and I am so sorry that I ever made you doubt that for even one second. I fucked up, big time, but I promise you I would never do that to you again. I never want you to think I don’t care about you because I do. So much.”

Rachel is silent, her mouth agape, her eyes shining in the moonlight, and all Quinn wants is to kiss the hell out of her. But she can’t, not yet. 

“How can you be so sure? That you…” Rachel asks, trailing off as a faint blush paints her cheeks.

Quinn just shrugs, smiling when she says, “I miss you. It’s as simple as that. Only someone I love is worth being missed that much.”

Quinn watches Rachel’s expression change, morphing into something she can only describe as pure admiration, and just the sight of the smile on her face brings tears to Quinn’s eyes. She hasn’t seen that smile in months, especially not directed at her, and she can’t believe how much she’s missed it. Rachel takes a step forward, closer to her, and looks deeply into her eyes.

“I’ve missed you, too,” She admits softly, and the words send Quinn’s heart soaring out of her chest. “And I’m sorry, too.”

“It’s okay,” Quinn says, smiling from ear to ear. “I have to admit something to you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rachel asks.

Quinn nods and grins as she says, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Then, do it,” Rachel says, “Kiss me, right here on the porch, in front of all of our stupid friends.”

Well, Quinn doesn’t have to be asked twice.

She takes a step forward, cups Rachel’s face with her hands, and kisses her. Rachel responds instantly, sliding her hands around Quinn’s waist and her lips against Quinn’s, and Quinn feels as if her heart slides and locks back into place. The feeling of having Rachel back, in her arms and in all of her senses, is even better than she had imagined it. Her lips taste like home, and Quinn has missed them so much.

She feels Rachel smile into the kiss, and Quinn can’t help but smile back, resulting in an awkward separation of their lips as they press their foreheads together and stare into each other's eyes. Quinn presses soft, chaste kisses to her lips, and she watches Rachel’s eyes flutter shut before she captures Quinn’s lips in a bruising kiss, one that catches her off guard. Quinn’s eyes close automatically, kissing her with fervor, and she’s tilting her head to deepen the kiss when she hears a car alarm go off.

Instantly, Quinn pulls away and turns her head to see Santana smirking, hitting a button on her keys to turn the alarm off.

“Santana, what the hell?” Quinn shouts, confused.

“You two were putting on quite the show for everyone,” Santana replies. “Get a room.”

Quinn is about to respond when she hears Rachel laugh, and she feels her tuck her head into her shoulder. Smiling, she wraps her arm around Rachel’s waist, tilting her head to rest on top of hers. Behind them, Quinn hears a sudden onslaught of footsteps before all of the Glee members walk out onto the front lawn to look at her and Rachel. Quinn laughs and presses a kiss to Rachel’s forehead.

“So, I assume you guys want some answers,” Quinn says knowingly. Seeing their nods, she’s opening her mouth to speak when Rachel cuts in and says, “Quinn is my girlfriend.”

“She is?” Finn asks, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I am?” Quinn follows, looking at Rachel with a similar expression.

Rachel smiles and nods. “Yes, she is,” She announces to all of their friends. “We were together last school year, and she loves me, and I love her, and that’s all you need to know.”

“You do?” Quinn asks, feeling as lost as all of their friends right now.

“I do,” Rachel confirms, looking into her eyes. “I love you, Quinn.”

Rachel’s eyes are filled with nothing but sheer love and adoration, and Quinn is helpless to do anything but lean in and capture her lips, pouring all of the love she feels into the kiss. When she pulls back, she watches as everyone files back inside the house, leaving the two of them alone on the front porch.

“Come inside,” Rachel requests, a cheesy grin on her face, “I believe you owe me a dance.”

Quinn grins back. “I believe I do.”

Rachel takes her hand, and together they walk into the house, their former sanctuary, for the first time feeling truly free, truly unburdened and open, and Quinn has never been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


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